


Shut Up

by TheOtherCourse (kanevixen)



Series: Tom and Abigail Series [41]
Category: Actor RPF, British Actor RPF, Real Person Fiction, Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: Bad Days, Blow Jobs, F/M, Mood Swings, Oral Sex, Quiet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-22
Updated: 2015-11-22
Packaged: 2018-05-02 22:57:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5267033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kanevixen/pseuds/TheOtherCourse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tom's girlfriend, Abigail’s in a foul, rotten mood after getting her monthly visitor. She has one request of Tom, and rewards him handsomely when he complies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shut Up

**Author's Note:**

> Hitting the back arrow button on my iPod harder than I intended, my ill-temper and irritable nature taken out on the electronics unfairly. It had been a bad day, an extremely difficult day that I was only just came out on the other side of without choking someone or hurling myself in front of a red double decker tourist bus. The mood settled in the morning when I discovered my monthly visitor arrived right on time as my birth control pill supply indicated.

Rehearsal had been shit, and I wanted to curl up in the fetal position at home with my hot water bottle against my bloated belly. The director was acutely sterner with the cast, at least it felt that way in my sensitive sensibility. I nearly burst into tears when he suggested we change the blocking on one scene. The scene hadn’t been locked, I knew that, but my brain and emotions couldn’t handle the difference.

To add insult to injury, my costar possessed this noticeable pattern in his speech that normally didn’t bother me, but in my current state became the most annoying trait ever. Mark, a tall handsome bloke with full lips, greeted with a smile, “Morning, Abby. How’s tricks, love?” When he spoke, he used five word increments, always five words and nothing more, nothing less. This habit grated on my hormonally agitated nerves.

Quelling the desire to roll my eyes and biting back the urge to scream at him to make him use more words, I forced a smile and said, “Morning!” The false cheer infused in my inflection almost fooled me.

“Would you like to run lines?”

With frozen fake smile in place, I declined, “No, thanks! I’m good here. I’ve got it all committed to memory.”

“How about we review blocking?”

Biting my tongue against a snide comment, I nodded and occupied my garbled, spiteful brain with work. At least, that’s what I’d set out to accomplish until the director decided to be a tosser for the rest of the afternoon.

Mercifully, rehearsal ended on time and I took the tube back to Tom’s flat. I was tempted to ring him to have him bring the car around to fetch me, but I didn’t want to be unjustifiably mad at my boyfriend. Knowing my mood, I’d snap at him and we would end up screaming at each other, all because I was mercurial this time of the month. Relying on the sweet, soothing tones of Spice Girls 2 Become 1 (don’t judge!) to regulate my temper.

Tom was camped out on the sofa, watching telly when I walked in the front door. He was waiting on me to start movie night, dinner was already cooking in the oven, the aroma of baked chicken filling the open space. When he heard me enter and kicked off my flats in the foyer, dropping my shoulder bag in the middle of the floor too, he came to me. Taking me in his arms, he sighed, “Baby.” He kissed me chastely and ran his hand over my hair in his way to welcome me home.

I reached up and pressed my forefinger against his lips as he was about to say something more. “Tom, love, please don’t talk. I’m cranky, irritable – I love you. I don’t want to get mad at you for no reason. Can you stay quiet?”

He kissed my fingertips lovingly, then pushed his lips together, his eyebrows raised in question, and nodded. I brushed my mouth along his, relieved and grateful to have a man so understanding. “Thank you.” I moved past him to the bedroom to change out of my outfit into one of Tom’s t-shirts and freshened up in the en suite bathroom.

When I returned to the living room, my lover had my hot water filled, my pink duvet and his blue duvet on the sofa beside him, an emergency stash of Cadbury chocolate on the coffee table, and The Proposal menu looping on the blu-ray player. I wanted to cry from his sweet, forgiving nature in light of my craziness.

Without a word, I went to him and lowered myself onto his lap, straddling his legs, holding him close. I curled into him, wrapping every part of me around every part of him, seeking his comfort and warmth. Keeping his promise, he stayed mute, but I could sense his wanting to ask after me. Replacing the need to ask, he caressed my back, pressing play on the movie but turning the volume down. He held me close, concentrating on elevating my spirit.

I whispered into his ear, “Thank you. I love you so much.” I threaded my fingers through his hair, pulling back to look into his eyes. “I’m being selfish and silly. Did you need to talk to me about anything?” He shook his head, his eyes wide with comical fear of my wrath. I giggled, held his cheeks and grilled him once more, “I won’t be mad if you need to talk or want to talk. I’m sorry for telling you to stay quiet.” Tom shrugged and shook his head, sustaining his silence and his promise to me.

I examined his expression and I didn’t get a hint of any negative feelings towards me. “You’re an amazing man.” I kissed him tenderly, massaging his lips with mine slowly, reveling in our intimacy. His hands were still caressing and stroking along my back. I deepened the meld of our mouths, tasting and kissing him with my all, communicating the extent of my affection for him.

I squeezed my thighs around his waist, adjusting my position in his lap, closing the distance between my middle to his groin. I swept my hips along his, a moan rumbling through him up into my mouth. Combing my fingers through his hair again, rubbing the pads of my fingertips into his scalp, I poured more into our kiss. Tom’s hands landed on my bum and pressed me closer and down into his hardening erection, letting me know in no uncertain terms that he desired me, even in my awful temperament.

Tearing my mouth from his, I nibbled along the long column of his neck, taking time to love him in every way I could. My hands slid from around the back of his head, down his chest, touching him, adoring him. I usually allowed him to take the lead in our foreplay and how we loved each other. In my current mood, he conceded to my seduction.

Wiggling backwards, my hands sunk down lower to unbuckle his trousers. Our eyes held, locked together in open honesty. I freed him from his denim stronghold, to touch him directly. He slumped down along the sofa, widening his thighs, shifting down, granting me access to him. I watched his eyes as I encircled his hard length in my palm, his lids sliding closed, his head dipping back, groaning from his chest in pleasure. I pumped my hand over the length, from hilt to head and back again, silky skin gliding over the stiff shaft.

Over his muffled moans, I continued a slow leisurely pace on him, murmuring how sexy he is, how much I liked him in my mouth, painting an erotic picture of all the things I planned on doing to him. I climbed off Tom’s lap and knelt before him between his splayed legs, my hands following my descent. I kneaded my hands along his muscular thighs, higher and higher until I could grasp his trousers and peel them down. He lifted his hips to assist me in stripping him.

Taking his cock back in hand, I licked the head slowly, circling languidly, tasting the tiny bit of liquid seeping from the tip. “Abigail,” he groaned with a lustful plea. I didn’t have the chance to enjoy that he actually spoke to me, thoroughly engaged with the flavor of him on my tongue. He was strong, masculine and rich along my taste buds, and I only wanted more.

I easily ran my tongue up and down the length before encasing him in the hollow of my mouth. He breathed out, “Fuck… Ab… by…” His head was thrown back, the ecstasy of my attention on him. With my lips completely around him, I took him in further, lowering myself on him. I was slow and precise at first, offering up pleasure for his care of me. Pulling up and away, I hollowed my cheeks, adding just the right amount of suction that he liked. My hand followed the same path, working in tandem with my mouth.

My tongue licked along the underside of his cock, heightening his sensitivity, as I loved him with my mouth. His fingers threaded through my hair, holding me to him. I glanced up into his eyes, heavy with arousal and half closed in bliss, the irises making his blue almost completely disappear. He groaned, “Abby… so fucking good…” I alternated between slow and measured strokes and erratic and quick swallows, pushing him closer and closer to climax. His sounds and chorus of chants of need, want and my name over my head flooded my insides with craving. I pressed my thighs together to alleviate the yearning for him. This wasn’t about me, tonight was about him, and his delicacy with me.

His breathing was rapid and his hip occasionally lifted off the sofa as a particular ministration stole his reserve. “Right there… Abby… oh, fuck… right there…” As he got closer and more urgent with his moans, I reached down and traced a pattern over his sack underneath before fondling him. His curses became harsher, his fingers yanked at my hair, his orgasm very close, hovering just above him. “Abby… coming… coming… fuckfuckfuck… Abby… I’m coming…” I moaned long and loud around him, the vibrations shoving him over the edge of euphoria.

A shout erupted from his throat as he exploded down my throat. His cock twitched as he spent long streams in my mouth. I drank him down, sucking gently, bringing him back to me. Tom pulled me back into his lap, searching for some intimacy with our arms wrapped around each other. He kissed me fully and I shared the evidence of his peak when I touched my tongue to his.

After separating, he asked softly, “Can I do anything for you, baby?”

I shook my head, curling my fingers in his hair again, “I’ll be okay. All this-” I gestured to all the things he set up for me. “All this- Tom, my- I’m… Tom, I love you. Thank you for being wonderful.”

He grinned sheepishly, “I don’t want to be on the wrong end of your vengeance, love. My motives were entirely selfish and motivated by self-preservation.”

“Mine too, I got you talking to me again after foolishly telling you to shut up. I’m sorry for that.”

He shook his head sweetly, dismissing my concerns. Encircling his arms around me once more, we nestled into each other’s arms. We spent the rest of the night, snuggled against each other, under our duvets, watching film after film. Tom turned my shit day on its arse and made it a beautiful night.


End file.
